For many, the Gold Digger may be a place to come for a night on the town, to gamble or slide your arm around a pretty, scantily-clad woman. Surelda, however, just lives here. That means she bathes in the upstairs bath, and eats most of her meals down here. Dressed as she is, in her blue dress with the simple straps, the drop waist, and the ruffled skirt, she may well look the part of a whore. Her silver hair has today been pulled to the side in a messy bun, and she wears a black holster around her waist with a gun tucked into the back of it. She's sitting at a table with an empty plate and a tumbler of whiskey that she's sipping. There's a healing cut on her right shoulder.

She hums a little, watching the bustle of the place in the evening. Every so often, she takes a little sip.

Enter Lowry. His head is bandaged and he has a slight limp. Though, his clothes are cleaner then usual, not dusty and dingy from life on the road. He sees Surelda and offer a grin before pulling up a chair. He sets his hat down and strectches out before ordering a drink himself. "Quite a day out ther'!" He says referring to the ambush. "Saved ma' ass again." He adds with a nod. "Where ya' been anyways? We wuz' lookin' fer ya. Was worried. Go on one of yer' benders?" He doesn't sound like he's reprimanding her just curious.

Surelda's brows lift high at the sight of the man limping in. "Shit, sugar. You look ... well, worse than I feel after one of my benders." In a gesture of sympathy, Surelda slides the half-full tumbler of whiskey across the small table to where the man has just settled. His question brings a touch of color to her cheeks, and she looks down and away, shaking her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I toldja," she admits with a sigh. Then she looks around, making sure that there's no one else to overhear. She looks back to Lowry. "Lo, sugar ... I might be in a spot of trouble, or will be, soon 'nuff. I'm rather short on friends, just now." She leaves that statement out there, glancing up at his face to see his response.

An appreciative nod is given and he downs the shot. Just in time for it to be filled back up along with a new glass for him and a beer. He listens along now, sipping his beer and sucks the head from his lips. When she finishes he says, "Try me, the wastes offer new surprises every day." The other part brings a frown. "Trouble?" He leans over the table to look her square in the eyes. "Well, let's hear it. I aint got too many friends either so reckon we'll have to stick together." He gives a wink and leans back sipping his beer again and continuing to listen.

"Everyone keeps saying that. Try me. And I do and I feel like an ass," Surelda says, giving the man across the table a wry look. Another tumbler of whiskey comes out, and Surelda this time reaches into her pocket for a few pills, which she pops in her mouth and uses the whiskey to chase down. That'll feel better soon.

"My Daddy, who ain't exactly the kindest sort of man, is lookin' for me. And he's got the means to get me, if he wants to. Thing is, he's on the El Dorado shit list, so I'm worried that if people know he's my Daddy and that he's looking for me, I'll be screwed. And that's kind of where I'm at, just now."

Lowry shrugs. "In yer' own time then. Glad yer' back though." He holds up his second glass in salute and drinks it down quickly. Setting it back down he continues listening, intermittenly sipping his beer. "Hymm.. Well, I won't ask who he is. I can keep quiet, mind 'ya but if ya wanna keep it hush I get it." He squints now in thought for a brief moment and then goes on. "Well, ya think they'll hand ya over? OR snatch up themselves fer' info? Does he know yer' here? Or that yer' on the radio every day?

Surelda bobs her head a few times. "Yeah, he knows," she admits. "About the radio, about El Dorado. The Marshal, Marshal Stockton that is, he's helping me get to talk to the El Dorado lady President about it all. See if they'll let me stay 'round even though I am who I am. So she'll decide if I'll get handed over or tossed out or allowed to stay. But honestly? I'm kinda worried it won't come to that. They caught a few of Daddy's idiots coming to get me. It'd be easy, yanno? Just one day, walking to the Caravan HQ, it'd be days before anyone thought to look fer me." She takes another small sip, then seeing Lowry throw his own back, she shoots it. Like a pro, yo!

"Well, we went a lookin' fer' ya last time and we would again! IF I don't hear ya on the radio I'll be asking around. Won't waste no time, promise." He's getting a buzz now it seems. "And don't be goin' out alone. I can give ya a ride back and forth from the Hq. If ya aint afraid of horses that is. And I see ya got yerself some protection." He grins and motions at the gun, being the previous owner. "You know how ta' shoot that thing? Aint worth a damn if ya don't. We will have ta' get ya out there firin' that revolver there. It's not a bad gun, we had a good run."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Or at least of the Marshal, his spurs jingle as he stalks into the Saloon looking around quickly for anyone he might recognize. Finding Lowry and Surelda in one spot he just smiles a bit at his luck and turns on a boot heel that way. Making sure he passes a Mr. Handy to order a beer and a sandwich on his way over. He doesn't really ask permission, he just snatches up a chair and turns it around so he can drop down onto it. "Evenin'."

"This? This ain't the found one, you dumb lush," Surelda points out, showing off the pistol she wears. "But I have that one, I toldja I did. You can have it back if you want, it's just up in my room." Yes, she lives in a whorehouse. But she's not a whore, dammit! Still, she grins at him as she teases the man, lifting her own whiskey for another sip. She nods as she lowers it. "I'd like that," she finally decides. "If you could take me to the HQ and home for my shifts, I mean. When you're around, of course. I doubt I could afford to keep you from a caravan," she says, that grin still present.

It grows broad at Stockton's sudden arrival and his comfort in joining them. "Marshal," she says, by way of greeting. "Lo and I were just discussing my current predicament, but he's offered to ride me into the HQ and home when he's got time." She looks back to Lowry. "Since the Marshal here seems to have invaded our airwaves, I was thinkin' we needed a codename for him. Any ideas?"

Lowry chuckles, "So it aint. Wasn't looking that close. But yea, no sweat. I don't mind. Usually spend ma' time here or there when not travelin' anyhow. 'Sides." He points at his head. "I'll be out of comission awhile. Give me something ta' do." At Stocktons arrival he nods and holds his glass up a bit, "Marshall." He says politely. "Yea, well. We should fix mine first!" He says refering to his handle. "But I would reccomend ya' keep one on ya all the time. If ya get snatched up ya might be able to call fer' help....MAybe."

Stockton isn't privvy to previous conversations, but he catches up fairly easily when Surelda gives him the rundown. A grunt is given in recognition for that predicament being quite a predicament. Looking back at Lowry he nods, "Keepin' 'er not alone is the priority. Second part's that y'all gotta kill off Lady Silver - she can't exist if we wanna keep Sully," he informs Lowry. The mentions of nicknames and codenames just has him smirking a bit. "Ain't had a nickname since my outlaw days," he mentions aloud with zero shame. The people of El Dorado elected him, sordid history and all. "Knowin if you get snatched is why we got check-ins now," he tells Surelda with a bit of a scowl as if to reinforce that statement. Check-ins will happen young lady. Giving Lowry a grin though, the Marshal nods his head once, "Speakin' of travelin' and bein out in the wastes. We need yah to keep yer ears and eyes open fer clues about some particular Enclave and Solomon issues; seems they might be gettin' into nukes and chem-weapons. We need every eye and ear peeled fer clues on that."

"Outlaw days?" Surelda asks, dead curious about that. Oh yes, she'll be asking later. The Marshal gets a smirk for that little reveal before they go back to the topic at hand. "I know, Marshal. I promise I won't miss one." Unless she's high as a motherfuckin' kite on a bender that puts her closer to the dead than the living. But any other time, she'll totally answer!

Lowry gets a smirk from her at the same time Stockton offers over his. "You picked Multifruit first time I met you. Not my fault that 'Fruity' just flows right off the tongue. Though if you want something else, pick something fermented. Easiest way to know you're coming is to smell ya." She ribs the man fondly and quite good-naturedly, before looking back to Marshal for his request. It sombers her up a bit, and she sits just a bit taller. When Mr. Handy comes back around, another round of whiskeys is ordered for all. Her treat. Least she can do, right?

"I was thinkin' that. But word always gets out. What they used ta' call ya anyways?" He sips at his beer again and ponders, "What about...Nah, nevermind." He dials the possible solution back, thinking better of it. Continuing he says, "Well, pry be a spell 'fer I'm back out on the job but I'll keep ma' eyes and ears open, MArshall." He gives a nod and sips. He laughs At Surelda's comment on his handle. "Ahh, but seriously. If somethin' aint done about yer' pops you'd best fall off the map till it's handled. I'd start with that hair. Dead give away. Though I will miss it." He gives her a smirk.

Stockton chuffs once at Surelda, he'll answer those burning questions at a later date. Yanno, not out in public. For now though, he's sticking to the topics at hand. When she promises, he gives Surelda a firm nod. Good. "I mean...she's gotta point, Fruity," he's a little bit of a bastard sometimes. But it's good natured and they're not on the radio coms right? "I wanna talk tah the President yet first...but it ain't my secret to give out," he looks from Lowry back to Surelda, just a hint of worry. Giving the Lonestar fellow a nod, "Appreciated, any info that can help is one step closer tah not meltin' off our own bones," he affirms. The subject swings back to Surelda and hiding. "Already told 'er that. Hair's goin, name's goin. I'ma put in a report about a young silver haired girl found dead in the wastes with 'er brain half removed."

Surelda reaches up, subcontiously, to run her fingers along the silver locks that had made her so easy to pick out. She's as fond of them as anyone else, that's clear. "I started doin' it in New Vegas," she admits to the two, wrinkling her mouth to one side. "I suppose I could go back to the black if I had to." And yes, she understands that she has to. But she doesn't like it.

Surelda lifts her head then, looking between them for a few moments. "Do you think I'll need a new name too? More than just one of my nicknames? I...hadn't really thought about a new one. Wouldn't it be weird for folks?"

"Good idea." Lowry says. "Hate losin' our radio girl but until this is settled aint no two ways around it." His beer is finished and Mr. HAndy swings around with more. "Half removed huh? Be easy enough to fake it. she's got a problem." He's not saying it insulting. God knows the man is no saint. "I'd have her jus 'od' right here in front of everyone. Get a doc we can trust. Have 'em conveinatly here. Aint no one gonna doubt she had a bit too much jet or somehin'. Do it right in front of everyone. Jist an idea." Turning to Surelda now he says, "Eh, we'll come up with somethin ya like. We'll get used to it. You will too, I'm sure. Anyways. IF we get yer pops outta the picture you can go back to yer silver hair and yer name."

With a heavy sigh he tosses his head some, "Maybe a lil, we'll have tah think on it," but he's shaking his head, "People adopt new personalities all the time, fer a buncha reasons." A shake of his head, "I hate it but yer not wrong. The town's fulla spies."

"Wait," Surelda says, shaking out her somewhat buzzed head now. "Ya'll want me to OD in front of everyone in the casino?" she asks. She, at least, has the good sense to keep her voice very, very quiet for that little statement of half-hearted objection. Her mouth gapes slightly and she looks at Lowry, then to Stockton, then back. "Where do I go, once everyone thinks I'm dead?" Because she can't well waltz back in after a stunt like that. She looks between them again, but eventaully settles on Stockton. "What's gonna happen to me?"

Stockton shakes his head, "I dunno about all that. Killin' yah public like and then yah show up wit different color hair? Suspicious. You get enough of a hair cut, maybe bangs, somethin' to change yer face shape, and yer some new girl that looks familiar. And there's reports of dead silver haired girl and people make their own conclusions." He finally takes up his booze and takes a long sip, "We can't bank on someone not figurin things out, but it'll throw the trail enough to give us time." He looks at Lowry and shakes his head, "Just dealin' with her Pa's not gonna cut it, we may need to deal wit his organization too b'fore she's truly safe. But us all workin' together increases the odds, yeah." He listens to Lowry and shrugs a shoulder, "That's actually not as terrible as I thought."

"Red's better'n blonde..." Surelda decides, touching her hair fondly once again. She's not going to love losing out on the beloved silver. Or changing the entire style. "So, Surrie the Silver Haired Radio girl dies and ... some redheaded girl comes back in her place." Her hand is trembling as she lowers it to her drink again, throwing back the rest and then turning the glass over. She's done. Yes, she actually has a limit, believe it or not.

"Daddy's basically the Enclave," she confides in Lowry. "I mean, I don't know that, but I know he's been workin' with them since before he was ever the Mayor, here. I mean, I think I know. It's somethin' I remember..." she sighs, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sorry," she finally admits to both of them. "I don' mean to be such a downer. I do appreciate all ya both are doin' for me, and I'll do just like you say with just a little fuss. It's just..." she purses her lips and kicks at the table beneath them. "It ain't fair. But I'll make it work."

"It could work." Lowry says. "Pretty believable. Ta anyone who knows her at least." Over to Surelda he says, "Heavy shit." A little more than he would have bet on. But, after what she says he can piece it together. "I see...." He takes a strong drink after that. "Fair? Ain't nothing fair in the wastes, darlin. Don't be sorry. We're gonna le ya wiith the red anyways. It'll look good, I know it." He looks her up and down now, pry not the most polite look he's given her. Though afterall, he's just a guy! "Yea, go with red." He adds.

Stockton nods rather easily with a smile, red would suit nicely he seems to agree. The beloved silver has to go though, especially since the man in question knew her alias. When he catches that trembling again, he just reaches out and catches Surelda's hand to steady it, give it a reassuring squeeze, "It'll be alright, some how, you jus' gotta keep pushin' on." Of course she goes and gives all the other hints necessary so he just turns his intense gaze to watch Lowry as the realization pops up. Gauging carefully. Satisfied, he smiles at the fella again, "Ain't that the damn truth," he snorts and finishes off his drink. Another chuckle and he looks at Sully, "Sounds like yer gonna be a redhead, darlin'."

The hand caught by Stockton draws Surelda's big, black eyes and she watches him for a moment. A smile slowly returns to her features. "Don't worry. Lo here's got my back in all things," she assures the big lawman, apparently catching the look of concern on his features when he guages up the lushy Multifruit. "Fuck me, I need another drink after all," she sighs, and after another squeeze, she rises and plucks up her glass.

As she moves past the men, Stockton will get a soft kiss on the corner of the mouth, and Lowry will get a peck on the cheek. She wobbles, just for a moment, and then finds the ground beneath her to stalk off and see where Mr. G-d Damn Handy got off to.